


The White Wolf's Pack

by Siegrrun



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Geralt of Rivia cares, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Being an Idiot, Mild Blood, Multi, My first fanfic in ages, Only TV show canon as I'm yet to finish the books, Yen and Jaskier being Bros, and Roach usually has it, but needs to realise it, found family trope, no beta we die like men, they all have just one braincell, they're all just one big family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22427422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siegrrun/pseuds/Siegrrun
Summary: "It is generally not a good idea to let a practically defenseless bard go alone down the mountain full of murderous creatures. It is an even worse idea when said bard is a literal magnet for all things dangerous and seems to be unable to stay out of trouble for five minutes.That being said, it shouldn't come as a big surprise that soon after leaving Geralt on top of that bloody mountain, Jaskier found himself on the ground, facing a full set of very big, very sharp yellowish fangs."After his fight with Geralt, Jaskier descends the mountain alone.It doesn't take long for him to come eye to eye with the monster.But where the witcher isn't present to safe his bard, the witch will suffice
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Jaskier | Dandelion & Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 80
Kudos: 385





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have not written fan fiction in years, but this idea has been stuck in my head for weeks and I had to write it down.  
> I think there are not enough fics featuring the friendship between Jaskier and Yen and I've decided to change that.  
> Also this might or might not turn later into a longer story, depending mostly on how it'll be received. 
> 
> English is not my first language, so I apologise for any and all mistakes. Please, feel free to bring my attention to any mistakes that you notice. 
> 
> Hope you'll enjoy the story :)

It is generally not a good idea to let a practically defenseless bard go alone down the mountain full of murderous creatures. It is an even worse idea when said bard is a literal magnet for all things dangerous and seems to be unable to stay out of trouble for five minutes.

That being said, it shouldn't come as a big surprise that soon after leaving Geralt on top of that bloody mountain, Jaskier found himself on the ground, facing a full set of very big, very sharp yellowish fangs.

He felt dizzy from where his head hit the hard rock beneath and sharp pain emanated from the long gashes left by the beast's claws.

The creature growled deep in its throat and Jaskier whimpered slightly when its fangs neared dangerously to his face. He could feel its hot breath on his face. Breath that smelled of rot and other stuff he'd much rather not think about.

So this was it, he thought bitterly. That's how he was going to die, in the middle of nowhere with his best friend hating him.

He really wished Geralt was here. Not only because he needed saving, but because he didn't want to be alone. He didn't want to die alone.

How pathetic was that?

And then a couple of things happened simultaneously.

The beast opened its jaws, ready to strike. Jaskier closed his eyes tightly, preparing for pain. There was a great blow of magic followed by a loud crash and the creature was thrown off of Jaskier. Its shriek echoed through the mountain as it fell down the steep.

Geralt. It had to be.

Jaskier sagged in relief, not caring how pathetic he was being. Geralt was here.

The bard fought to catch his breath, trying and failing to bring his heart rate back to normal. He found it hard to focus, but wasn't sure if he should blame it on his head injury or an overall panic.

He felt dizzy and detached, and staying awake was becoming an increasingly bigger challenge.

The last thing he heard were the footsteps of his rescuer.

They seemed too light to be Geralt's.

* * *

  
He awoke next to the fire.

It took him a moment to remember what had happened.

And then another to realise he couldn't feel any pain. He frowned, not sure if it was a good or a bad sign, given his earlier agony.

There was a rustle and then the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Geralt" he murmured and he couldn't help a weak smile. Oh, he really was pathetic.

"No such luck, I'm afraid" answered a familiar feminine voice that most definitely wasn't Geralt's.

Jaskier's eyes snapped open. He was greeted by a pair of extraordinary violet eyes.

He wasn't sure if the emotion that flooded him was disappointment or relief.

"Yennefer" he said, voice hoarse from the mix of undifferentiated emotions.

She smiled, eyes glinting slightly in the light casted by the fire.

"That's better."

She looked perfect as always - hair, make up and outfit flawless, dangerous magical aura around her. A witch in her whole glory. But there was sadness barely noticeable, but existent in her features, in the sharp lines around her eyes, in her not entirely convincing smile. It was quite probably only thanks to the years spent with the witcher that Jaskier could see it at all.

He would be damned if he ever mentioned it though. Contrary to popular belief, he did not have a death wish.

She looked him over carefully.

"Healing isn't my area of expertise, so you can feel some discomfort for a few hours, but you shouldn't die. There's nothing I could do for your doublet" her eyes flickered to the teared, bloody cloth that used to be his doublet and she scrunched her nose. "Not that it's a big loss for humanity. More like a blessing, really."

He made a little affronted noise back in his throat but didn't comment. He had more pressing matters at hand.

"My lute...?" he asked, dreading the answer. He remembered swinging it at the monster and then loosing his grip on it while falling down.

Yennefer's eyes softened slightly. She motioned somewhere to the left and, sure enough, there was a lute laying there, in a safe distance from the fire. Jaskier sighed in relief.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the flames and each other, until Jaskier felt the need to break it.

"What are you doing here, Yennefer?" he asked. "Don't get me wrong, I am grateful that you came to my aid, but to be honest I thought you long since used your... Magic portal thingy."

She raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow at his choice of words, but didn't comment.

"Let's just say I had a feeling." she said dismissively.

"That... I'd be in danger?" he frowned, unbelieving.

"More or less."

"And why would you care?"

She seized him with one glance of violet eyes.

"When you see a puppy in danger, you don't just turn a blind eye" she said flatly.

This gave him a stop.

"A... A puppy?" he spluttered and could have sworn he saw a smirk on those red lips of hers.

"Small, energetic, runs around, wanders off, can't stop yapping... Do you want me to keep going?"

"How- how long have you been thinking that metaphor up?!" she had the audacity to laugh and he added, strongly offended. "Well, better to be a puppy than a... An old, mean... Baba yaga! "

"Whatever you say, pup."

"Don't- Don't call me that!"

She shot him a smile that he couldn't help but reciprocate. Maybe she wasn't that bad after all. Dangerous and clearly insane, but still... Not so bad.

"What happened?" she asked, sombering again. "Between you and Geralt?"

Nope, she really was that bad.

Jaskier pondered not answering at all, but one look into her eyes made him do it anyway. She looked... Sincere, almost sympathetic.

"He realised I made for a terrible travel companion and sent me on my way."

When she kept quiet, he asked bitterly:

"What, no 'finally'? No 'it took him long enough'? Expected more from you, Yennefer of Vengerberg."

She shot him a cold look.

"Believe it or not, I'm not in a habit of kicking abandoned puppies." he rolled his eyes at the metaphor, but she ignored him. "Geralt is an idiot."

"Glad we agree" Jaskier chuckled dryly.

She smiled at him sadly.

"Don't worry, Jaskier. Destiny has an ugly habit of biding people together" before he could ask what she meant, Yennefer stood up, dusting her long coat off and extended a hand to him. "Come on, time to go."

"It's the middle of the night" he protested weakly, but grabbed her hand anyway, letting her hoist him up.

"We are not travelling on foot, who do you take me for?" she said, clearly offended. "We are going to use my... Magic portal thingy as you eloquently referred to it earlier. Where do you want to go?"

He blinked owlishly at her.

"Wait, you're offering to take me through the portal? Wherever I want? You're not... Leaving me here?"

"I saved your life" she reminded, rolling her eyes. "Leaving you here alone would be a bit counterproductive, don't you think, pup? Now, where do you want to go?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments and kudos. It means a lot!

The tavern was crowded, filled with drunken laugher and singing of people relaxing after a long day of restless work. There was barely any space to move and Yennefer wrinkled her nose in disgust at the stench of sweaty, filthy bodies stinking of cheap ale. 

It wasn't hard to locate Jaskier, the bard being the exact opposite of the word 'subtle'. He was standing in the middle of the room, one leg perched on the nearby chair, lute in hand, voice raising high above the drunken chorus around him. If that wasn't enough to draw attention, he was dressed in the vibrant golden doublet. A buttercup amongst rocks.  


He noticed her right away, blue meeting violet, greeting her with a cheeky smile and a wink. She nodded in acknowledgement.  


The song continued, the energetic melody sweeping through the tavern.  


_The ladies swooned around him_   


_And the lords lost their pride_

_As the mighty warrior_

_Was walking through the town._

  


_Bold was the mighty warrior_   


_And handsome, there's no doubt_

_Which could not be hidden_

_By even his mighty shout._

  


_But let it not deceive you_

_It's just another trick_

_For the mighty warrior_

_Was also a mighty dick._

The roar of laugher rolled through the tavern and Yennefer chuckled lightly, surprised and amused, making her way to the only unoccupied table in the dark corner.   


Jaskier finished his performance with a deep, exaggerated bow, collected his coin, grabbed two mugs of ale and joined Yennefer at her table.   


"Hello, pup" she greeted him with a smile, accepting the ale. His frowned lightly at the nickname, but didn't protest. It was long since he had accepted it. Good. She wasn't going to let it go anytime soon.   


"Yennefer of Vengerberg" he tilted his head like a curious- well, puppy. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"  


"I was passing through the town, heard you were here."  


Not a lie, but not a complete truth either. But she'd rather listen to one of Tissaia's lectures about responsibility than admit she had been keeping track on Jaskier's endeavours.  


He hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip from his mug.  


"Well then, glad you could make it" he smiled at her, blue eyes glinting mischievously in the deem light. "Did you enjoy the show?"  


"Oh, very much so" she said, smirking. "That's one incredible song. Very subtle."  


He laughed then, a pure, joyous sound, head tilted back, the barely visible crow's feet around his eyes deepening just a bit. And Yennefer found herself smiling.   


"I'll have you know, Yennefer of Vengerberg, that 'subtle' is my middle name."  


"'Subtle' isn't even in your dictionary, pup."  


  


* * *

  


He was leaving the next day and she decided to join him. She could, of course, leave him be. She could also use a portal to safely transport him to his destination. But she found herself longing for the company, for the sweet warmth she only had ever felt with Geralt before. And she had a few days to spare. 

So she tagged along and if Jaskier had noticed her weird behaviour, he didn't mention it. Thankfully.   


She bought them horses, pointedly ignoring the bard's protests, saying that he could sell the horse and give her back the money once they reached their destination and yes, Jaskier, we need the horses, I am not going to endure your yapping for longer than absolutely necessary.  


After that, he finally acceded with a quiet grumble about inconsistent witches who insisted on tagging along themselves.  


The journey was nice and peaceful, filled with talking and singing, and the strumming of a lute. Jaskier was never quiet, always filling the silence but the witch found it hard to get annoyed. After months of their... closer acquaintance, she had grown used to his vibrant presence. Found it soothing even.   


Jaskier was full of life and energy, and delight. He was emotional and open, and so strikingly, amazingly, dangerously human. She was drawn to him like a moth to the flame, knowing full well she'd get burnt, but not being able to stop.   


She could understand Geralt more than ever.   


The journey ended all too quickly and Yennefer silently regretted buying those horses.  


She left that night, after spending the evening drinking ale and listening to Jaskier's songs.   


She left, wings already smoking slightly, knowing she would come back to his flame.   


She made sure Jaskier kept his horse.   


  


* * *

  


The first time she heard the song was a month later. She didn't recognise the voice, nor the melody, but she did recognise the craft. 

It was a ballad, soft and slow, and beautiful. She listened to the unfamiliar voice sing of the power and magic, and grace. Of black, red and violet. Of lilac and gooseberries. And she wished she could hear the original.  


She closed her eyes, smiling, the familiar, dangerous, warm feeling blooming in her chest.  


A moth to the flame.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Ciri will make appearance in the next chapter, though I'm not sure when I'll be able to write it.   
> Thank you for reading and I hope you're enjoy this little story as much as I am 😊


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took so long. I've had a lot of exams lately and couldn't find the time to write.  
> But I'll have some free time now, so I promise to make it up to you!  
> Without further ado, here's the long awaited chapter

Princess Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the Lion Cub of Cintra was a sweet, kind and curious thirteen year old girl. And, above all that, a very talkative one.

In other words - she never fucking shut up.

Since the moment Geralt met her in the woods three days before, she made it her life goal to permanently destroy the silence.

A year ago he'd have found it unbearable, would have probably told her to shut up, prayed for some peace. But a year ago it had been different. A year ago he hadn't known how _bloody awful_ silence really was. A year ago he'd had-

He shook his head forcefully.

In the past year he'd had two rules, he very strictly followed - 'don't think about Jaskier' and 'don't think about Yennefer'. He'd been doing a great job if he could say so himself.

Well, that is, until he met Ciri. In the last three days in the company of her constant talking and endless questions he had broken both rules countless times.

He wondered if there was even a point in trying to follow them anymore.

"Geralt?" he heard the uncertain voice.

He looked up at the girl. She looked so small, so fragile, sitting on Roach, playing nervously with the loose thread of her vibrant blue cape. 'Jaskier would love the colour' he thought absently before he shook himself forcefully back to reality.

"Hmm?" he acknowledged.

"I asked if you were alright. You're awfully quiet."

He guessed that was true. He talked much more in her company than he normally would, mostly because she bombarded him with questions, expecting an answer to every single one of them. He had spent one full day talking only about Yennefer. That had been a very tiring day and the rules had been broken a horrifying amount of times.

Today, though, he didn't feel like talking, preferably at all. There was something hanging in the air. Something awful, dangerous. Something keeping him on his toes since the morning.

But he didn't want to worry the girl just yet. There was no immediate danger. And she seemed happy and relaxed. Probably for the first time since the fall of Cintra. He couldn't quite bring himself to destroy it.

He hummed again, hoping she'd drop the subject, but she kept looking at him expectantly. She was insufferable that way. He was used to Jaskier, able to fully understand him without him having to say a single word. Ciri seemed not to possess this talent.

"I'm fine" he sighed finally.

She eyed him, unconvinced, but thankfully changed the subject.

"Where are we going, anyway?"

That was, in fact, an excellent question. He had been trying to decide where to take her for the past three days. He didn't think past the 'find the child surprise' part of the plan and it really showed. His first thought was taking her straight to Kaer Morhen. It wasn't a bad idea, but the road would be long and hard, and he really had to figure out how to afford taking care of a thirteen year old girl.

The priority right now, though, was to get her as far away as possible from the Nilfgaardian forces that no doubt were looking for her.

"North" he answered vaguely.

She huffed out an exasperated laugh.

"Very specific, Geralt. I'm so glad-" she cut off with a yelp, as Roach stopped abruptly, ears pinned back, head elevated, muzzle tight.

Geralt could smell it too. The smoke. The smell of burning trees, houses, bodies. The whole place reeked of death. Death and magic.

He briefly considered turning back, but something tagged in his chest at the thought.

He clenched his teeth and pulled lightly at Roach's reins, putting a calming hand on her neck.

Ciri kept quiet, lips pursed together, hands clenching her blue cape.

They walked through the forest in silence until they reached the clearing. Or rather, what once had been a clearing. Now it was only scorched remains of land.

He heard Ciri gasp next to him.

The stench of death and magic was nearly unbearable here and Geralt found himself wanting to leave this place as soon as possible. Preferably immediately.

There was nothing here left to save.

He turned around, intending to walk away, tagging Roach with him.

And then he heard the scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you all for reading. I was not expecting such a response and every comment and every kudo left warms my heart.  
> Now, that all the exams are behind me, I should be able to update more often.  
> Next chapters will feature some blood and quite probably some whump and angst.  
> I will alter the tags accordingly.  
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I said "I'll update soon", you know, like a liar.  
> I'm so soooo sorry it took so long. I'll try to be better in the future, I promise!  
> For now, please enjoy this very late chapter!

"Stupid mages with their portals and wretched sense of morality" Jaskier grumbled angrily, stumping through the forest. Tissaia kept her word, he wasn't too far from the fortress, he still could smell the smoke. Or maybe it was just permanently stuck to his nostrils. Most likely both. It'd be weeks until he gets it all out of his system.

He walked carefully, dagger gripped tightly in his hand, trying to make as little noise as possible and jumping at the slightest of sounds. It was downright paranoid, really, but he was far too close to the Nilfgaardian army to take any chances. And how could he count on finding a drained sorceress without paying attention?

He huffed in irritation. Why, on the divine beauty of Melitele's tits, was teleportation Yennefer's first defence mechanism? Out of every possible reaction, she had to pick the hardest to track. That was so like her, to make lives around her more difficult than necessary.

She was lucky he was willing to walk through the forest full of enemy's soldiers just to find her. Not that she'd ever admit that, gods forbid. She hadn't even wanted him at Sodden in the first place.

* * *

_"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jaskier's fingers stilled at the lute strings at the sound of the angry, stern voice. He'd recognise that voice anywhere._

_He raised his eyes and sure enough was met by the familiar, stormy violet gaze. He beamed at her happily, it was too long since they had last seen each other. He actually had started to miss the crazy sorceress._

_"And hello to you too" he greeted her cheerfully, ignoring the way she menacingly loomed over him. This kind of tricks didn't work on him after years of travelling with Geralt. If she wanted to scare him, she'd have to try harder than that. Much, much harder._

_Yennefer sneered at him, unamused._

_"You were supposed to be North" she all but growled. Gods, she could make a great impersonation of Geralt when she tried. "I thought I told you to go North!"_

_"Well, I thought you knew I never listen" he said defensively, because, really, what else had she been expecting? That he'd follow her instructions? She should know him better by now, after a year of, dare he say, friendship. Not that he'd call their relationship a 'friendship' out loud. Contrary to popular opinion, Jaskier did learn from his mistakes. And the last thing he wanted was a repeat of a disaster that was his... acquaintanceship with Geralt._

_Yennefer scoffed, exasperated, and grabbed his arm roughly (and doesn't she has an ounce of empathy for his poor doublet that was so very easy to crumple?), dragging him to his feet._

_"What are you doing?!" he protested. He could feel Yen's fingernails digging into his arm._

_"Sending you as far North as I can manage. "_

_Jaskier pulled out of her tight grip, folding his arms defiantly._

_"Absolutely not. I'm staying"_

_Yennefer narrowed her eyes, clearly annoyed. Once upon a time her anger would have intimidate and even scare him. Now he knew her too well for that._

_"You don't know what you're talking about, pup" she snarled. "The Nilfgaardian army is marching this way as we speak. In three days time this place will be a battlefield."_

_Her concern was sweet and appreciated, truly, but he didn't need to be told any that._

_"You think I don't know that?" he shot back. "That's why I came here! To help."_

_"How? You're going to sing Nilfgaardians to death?"_

_He scoffed, getting annoyed right back._

_"I am the first-born son of an earl" he reminded her sternly. "Do you really think I wasn't trained to fight?"_

_"No. But I do think you're twenty two years out of practice and can easily get stabbed."_

_Well, that was just mean. Never mind that she was right._

_"Why, Yennefer, I didn't know you cared" he joked, shooting her a playful wink._

_"Don't flatter yourself."_

_"I'm staying, Yen" he repeated quietly, but just as sternly. He wasn't going anywhere. Especially now, when he'd have to leave her behind._

_He could see her violet eyes soften._

_"I won't be able to protect you, pup" she said._

_"I know. And I don't care."_

* * *

Well, it wasn't him needing protection in the end, was it? He huffed a bitter laugh, brushing the lower branches away. 

The forest was unnaturally quiet after Yennefer's earlier manifestations. Shivers ran down his spine at the sole thought of her display of power. He could still feel the great, unnatural heat of her fire. 

It had been mesmerising and frightening, a reminder of how bloody powerful she really was. Jaskier was truly lucky to have her at his side. Sweet bosomy Melitele, he really wouldn't want to be her enemy. 

And then Yennefer had disappeared, leaving him alone to deal with her magical friends.

* * *

_"She didn't portal far, you said so yourself" he snarled at the sorceress, Tissaia, he remembered from their earlier brief introduction. "So just send a few people to find her and bring her back. Shouldn't be too hard with all your..." he made a vague, dramatic gesture with his hands, "abracadabra."_

_Tissaia looked unimpressed. And a bit annoyed. Well, all right, very annoyed._

_"I told you already, bard, " her voice was even and stern, leaving no room for discussion, "that the Nilfgaardians can attack again any moment. No mage can leave the fortress."_

_"What about Yennefer? What if they find her? She's alone and weak, she won't stand a chance!"_

_Tissaia rounded on him, anger flaring in her dark eyes. Shivers ran down Jaskier's spine but he refused to back down. Not when Yen's life was at risk._

_"Don't_ ever _imply," the sorceress said lowly, dangerously, "that I do not care about Yennefer."_

_His instincts screamed at him to shut up, to run. He ignored them, as well as the sane part of his mind informing him helpfully that he was one step away from getting cursed. He looked Tissaia in the eyes._

_"Then prove me wrong" he challenged._

_Her expression darkened but she didn't kill him so he counted that as a win. Instead she said:_

_"I need all of the mages here, ready to fight."_

_"Yennefer's more powerful than all of you put together!" Jaskier scoffed. "You won't be able to hold Sodden without her!"_

_Regret flashed in Tissaia's eyes as she turned around and started to walk off without a word._

_There was only one thing left that he could do._

_"Then send me!" he called after her. "You said you can vaguely sense where she opened the portal. Send me there."_

_She looked at him over her shoulder, expression unreadable._

_"It's not safe, bard."_

_"I can take care of myself" he scoffed, offended. "Just help me find her and I'll be out of your hair."_

_Her gaze softened as she regarded him curiously. The portal swirled behind him._

_"Be careful, songbird." she said as he stepped through the portal into the forest._

* * *

He found Yennefer after over an hour of looking. She was laying in a heap, bloody and unmoving. So unbearably still that for a second he feared the worst. 

Then she stirred and groaned and Jaskier could breathe again. 

He fell to his knees beside her, quickly looking her over for injuries. There was an ugly, but harmless gash at her temple. Jaskier noticed with relief that the stab wound at her side had already started to heal itself. Praise the gods for magic. 

Yennefer groaned again and her eyelids fluttered, revealing the beautiful, although slightly confused, familiar violet. 

"Hey, Yen" Jaskier greeted her with a soft smile. "How're you feeling?" 

"Jaskier?" her voice was rough and tight with pain and emaciation. But she was coherent and that was all Jaskier could ask for right now. "What are you doing here?" 

"Saving you, of course" his smile widened playfully. "Worry not, fair maiden, your knight in shining armor is here."

She frowned at him. 

"Are you trying exceptionally hard to be annoying or is my patience just running low?" 

He pretended to think about the answer as he helped her into a sitting position. 

"Probably both" he said finally. 

She chuckled lightly. 

"You know, pup-" 

She cut off, her eyes widening as she looked at something over Jaskier's shoulder.

A second later he felt a sharp blade of a sword digging painfully into his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I planned this chapter to be longer but decided to divide it into two parts.  
> Hoped you all liked it!  
> Your comments give me life, thank you all so much for reading and for your patience. I really will try to do better.   
> Next time - the source of the scream shall be revealed (even though, I'm sure you already know who it is).


End file.
